


Every time you're shaking me down, I die

by bugspokemon



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Barista Harry, Businessman Louis, Christmas Fluff, Drunk Blow Jobs, Grinding, M/M, also pumpkin spice everything, harry as the little spoon!!!, not much ziall or sophiam i'm sorry, there's a lot of drinking and cuddling, warning for overuse of fairy lights and tinsel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 07:18:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2764532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bugspokemon/pseuds/bugspokemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Today was the day Louis has been dreading for months.</p><p>Every day the haunting green sign hung above the shop has been taunting him, mocking him for even getting attached to the quaint cafe that once inhabited those walls. Now it’s taken over by the big name corporation and hipster magnet, also known as Starbucks.</p><p>That smug weird logo plagued his dreams and wormed its way into his everyday life. Merely due to the fact that he has to see the damn thing every morning when he arrives at work, but still. </p><p>He feels like he is being stalked, it isn’t normal. His rights have been violated. He barely contains a scoff every time he sees one of the poorest excuses for a coffee shop, which is a lot considering they are on every block yet Louis is nothing short of determined. When he hates something he doesn’t do it halfway. </p><p>(Or the one where Louis loathes the holiday season, Harry serves coffee with a smile, Zayn looks good, and Niall drinks. Liam is in there somewhere.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every time you're shaking me down, I die

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hrryswee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrryswee/gifts).



> This is my first time doing a fic exchange and writing a fic in general woo! So proud of this bby and it's based on this lovely prompt: *Harry is a Barista full of holiday spirit. Louis fucking hates pumpkin spice. Blow Jobs plezzzzzzzzz and also side ziall and a lot of warm fluff and sweaters.
> 
> Title comes from the song Bite Down by Bastille vs Haim

Today was the day Louis has been dreading for months.

Every day the haunting green sign hung above the shop has been taunting him, mocking him for even getting attached to the quaint cafe that once inhabited those walls. Now it’s taken over by the big name corporation and hipster magnet, also known as Starbucks. 

That smug weird logo plagued his dreams and wormed it's way into his everyday life. Merely due to the fact that he has to see the damn thing every morning when he arrives at work, but still. He feels like he is being stalked, it isn’t normal. His rights have been violated. 

He barely contains a scoff every time he sees one of the poorest excuses for a coffee shop, which is a lot considering they are on every block yet Louis is nothing short of determined. When he hates something he doesn’t do it halfway. 

The previous place had been so nice, run by actual hard working adults and not sneering teens who purposefully misspell names for kicks, he trusted those people with his hot beverages dammit. Now that trust is gone.

So he may have been a bit bitter over the whole thing, sue him, it was the least he could do after his whole morning routine was, quite frankly ruined and by shit coffee no less or the complete lack thereof.

Now today is the day it finally opened it's gluten free, vegan, and no fun doors and started serving to the snobby public. Louis wasn’t impressed. 

He makes that well known to everyone else in the office, mainly his receptionist Zayn who merely nods along to his rants and raves with a glazed over look in his eyes, looking artfully into the distance as if he were posing for Gucci. Something Louis was far too used to after working with the man for so long.

"Can you believe it, Zayn? They put salt and caramel in with the coffee, actual salt from the sea and sold it for someone to drink. How disgusting." He spoke loudly into the intercom to the front desk, wanting to make sure that Zayn understood his frustration though he probably was asleep at this point and Louis couldn't really blame him except he was at work for fucks sake.

"Are you listening to a word I'm saying, Malik?" Louis wheedles and sighs when he only gets a noncommittal hum from the other man, not at all satisfying his need to complain about how ridiculous it is with someone else. Keeping things bottled up inside only amused Louis for a short amount of time before he needs to vent. Being a twenty six year old businessman hasn't changed that over the years.

In some ways he’s still the same whiny teen that used too much hairspray and didn't wear socks with his shoes.

Zayn's low timbre of a voice pulls him out of his nostalgic thoughts and he blinks once to focus.

"You know, you really should be concentrating on those files for Mr Corden or you could actually get off your arse and go see what all the fuss is about downstairs." The other man says coolly.

Louis is practically able to see his disinterested stare through the small speaker and he’s momentarily impressed.

"I know you weren't actually trying anything they make and it's pumpkin spice season. Bring a scone back for Niall-I mean Mr. Horan. Cheers." 

With that Louis was stuck staring at the dial tone humming out of the receiver and his own thoughts, he’s offended and a touch proud at Zayn finally standing up to him. He knew just how annoying he was being and he took advantage of his calm demeanour, but it was about time he snapped, though he wasn't all that thrilled about what it would entail.

Louis grumbles to himself all the way to the elevator. 

The trip down is a short one and Louis drags his feet all the way to the entrance, figuratively of course, since he happens to be wearing his nicest Oxfords, Italian leather and a rich dark brown in colour. He wouldn't dare scuff them. 

Even if he felt absolutely miserable about giving in and contributing to the Starbucks capitalist ways.

Louis sighs to himself quietly and takes a look around the bustling shop, the air thick with the scent of coffee and cream, steam billowing out of machines and the idle chatter of customers reaching his ears over the indie playlist most likely set on repeat in the background just to set the mood.

He hesitantly steps closer to the front, feeling out of place in his tailored suit and clean pressed trousers, but he refuses to show it. 

Louis puts on his best smoulder and squares his shoulders a bit as he approaches the front counter where he promptly deflates like a leaking balloon when he catches sight of just who would be serving him. 

There are dimples.

Two of them, in fact, and in the middle is a wide set mouth, stretching into a friendly smile that showed off white rows of teeth and plump lips. 

Oh no. 

Louis gaze flicks upwards as time seems to slow and all the noise, yes, even the horrid indie, fades away to just the sound of his heart beating and his increased intake of breath. 

There are eyes as green as the apron the boy is wearing staring back at him and a mess of curly hair framing his face, pushed back with a headband or scarf hybrid of sorts that should have looked funny, but only makes him more pretty. 

He’s so so screwed. 

"I said would you like a free sample of our new pumpkin spice latte?" 

Oh, right he’s being spoken to, Louis snaps back into himself and manages a sheepish grin, looking at the way this boy's mouth moves around the words before he meets his eyes again. 

"Um, yeah sure." He mutters lamely and tries not to grimace. 

If there was a god he must be looking out for him then because the cute boy only smiles wider and moves to get him a little shot glass of whatever he was offering, Louis hasn't really been paying attention. 

What he does notice though was the name tag pinned on the upper right corner of that hideous coloured apron. 

Harry, it reads. 

The boy, now officially known as fit Harry with the curls in his mind turns back to him with a steaming little cup obviously filled with this pumpkin flavoured disaster he’s meant to be trying.

“Cool, I make it myself you know. I hope you like it.” Green eyes cheerily responds, though Louis is probably staring at said drink with a mixed expression of horror and repulsion.

Still, Louis considers himself a gentleman for Christs sake and he won’t be the one to break some poor skinny jean wearing, hipster heart by refusing to taste a mouthful of artificially flavored coffee. His oh so helpful mind just has to supply him with the thought of something else he’d like to have a mouthful of right now and it takes the young lady patiently waiting behind him in line who clears her throat at that very moment to snap him out of his daze.

“Right, right, thank you.” Where was that bottomless pit to swallow him up right now when he needed it? He needs to get a grip, on himself and this boy preferably sometime soon.

Louis snatches the cup and tosses back the moderately warm contents with only a vague scowl, wrinkling his nose in distaste for a brief moment before he smoothes it out into something more pleasant considering Harry was watching his every move, his arms clasped behind his back and one cherry red lip pulled between his teeth. Obviously he is waiting to hear what he thought about the drink, though really it just makes him look like some type of seductive cherub and it’s giving Louis some incredibly mixed signals. 

He sets down the cup after swallowing, straightening his shoulders just a bit as he mentally celebrates his victory at not spitting the coffee back up over the cute boy staring at him like he was made of sunshine. He would never have lived that one down. 

After a few moments of silence, Louis pushes his tongue around his cheeks and teeth to try and get rid of the unpleasant aftertaste before he manages a weak smile. 

“Lovely. I’ll have a uh, tall one of that and a cheese scone please.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, Louis immediately regrets them and yet he makes no move to correct his order. The way Harry’s face positively lights up is probably well worth the pain and humiliation. 

“Great, that’ll be 4.75 and it’ll be ready at that counter over there,” Harry speaks up with one stupid dimple still creasing into his cheek and motions to someplace off to the side with one of his hands. How was Louis supposed to pay any attention to that? 

“Can I get your name as well, sir?” The boy finishes with what was in Louis’ utmost professional opinion, a cheeky grin if he ever did see one and oh, so that’s how it was going to be. A pleasant thrill tingles down his spine and he presses his lips together to hide his amusement, rubbing a hand idly over the well groomed scruff of his jaw just to see if Harry tracks the movement with his eyes. He does.

“Mr. Tomlinson.” He mutters smoothly, pulling out a few notes and some change to drop on the counter. “Or Louis if you want, love.” Is the last thing he says before pivoting on his heel with a quick wink and striding off to the other counter to pick up his order, leaving a flushed looking Harry standing behind the till who will later blame the colour high on his cheeks from the steam if any of his co-workers ask. 

Louis leaves the shop with a spring in his step and a paper cup clutched in his hand, ‘Mr. Tomlinson’ scribbled across the side in black sharpie with various hastily drawn hearts and something that looked suspiciously like a banana next to it. 

Even if he does let the pumpkin spice, whatever grow cold on his desk that day after he arrives in his office, it does serve a purpose to make him smile whenever he sees the name and thinks back to Harry.

It becomes a ritual of sorts after that. Louis would make sure to leave his apartment five minutes early each morning so he would get the chance to stop into the Starbucks on his way up to the office. He’d greet Harry with a hello and a smile, trying out whatever strange fall flavoured concoction he had made that day and ordered it just to see the way his eyes brightened, along with some sort of pastry of course since Zayn always demanded something to take over to Niall to impress him. 

Which was smart, after knowing the Irish lad for the better part of five years it was very safe to say that the only way to his heart was through his stomach and he’d be surprised if Niall has any clue just to what Zayn was playing at. If Louis had to wager a guess they would probably be married by the end of the year at this rate, it was sickeningly cute to watch. 

Back to Harry though, Louis couldn’t seem to get enough of him and if the fact he wastes a few pounds each day on overpriced coffee just for a few seconds of flirting wasn’t enough to tell you how besotted he was, then what would? He wasn’t being subtle about it, though slowly but surely he learned more about this endearing barista. 

Harry was in fact fresh out of Uni and totally legal at the age of twenty three, with a penchant for head scarves and telling people all about how banana flavoured things don’t actually taste like bananas in that signature syrupy drawl of his that warmed Louis to the core more than a cup of coffee ever could.

He’s in too deep now. 

Every morning he spent money on shit coffee that he never drank and lusted after someone he has only spoken a handful of words to yet, he was sure he wasn’t making up the sparks of chemistry that flew between them every time Louis caught his gaze over the counter and patiently waited for him to explain just what horrible beverage he would be paying for this time. 

The couple weeks of pining and teasing winks all came to a head on a Friday night, after Niall has burst into his office without knocking and proceeds to blabber on about this new club they were going to that night. 

“No excuses or staying late to work, Tommo. You’re coming with us. S’about time us lads got together again.” His lilting voice booms in Louis’ ear and he knows better than to put up a fight, when Niall makes plans you went through with it or face the consequences later.

Besides, he’d been right. Their small, tight knit group of Zayn, Niall, Liam from accounting, and himself have been rather swamped with work lately. A night out would be a pleasant change from the monotonous routine that has settled over them like the thick blanket of cloud in London during Autumn. 

So that’s how he finds himself leaning against the edge of a bar, the pounding of the dance music rattling him to the bones and thudding in his eardrums. Niall and Zayn have buggered off a few minutes ago since the former was of course drunk off his arse, and the latter was very opportunistic whenever he got Niall alone and pissed. They were probably grinding and giggling into each other’s necks out on the dance floor at that very moment, leaving him to his booze and Liam to the pretty brunette on his arm giving him the eyes. 

All in all it was looking to be a rather boring night for Louis, no one has caught his attention so far though he has received plenty of it in his crisp navy button down with the sleeves rolled up his tattooed forearms and his tightest black jeans that accentuate every curve and dip he has. 

His luck seems to change though when he gets a flurry of curls and a flash of green to his left, catching his eye and making him turn to inspect further. He’s promptly greeted with the sight that nearly makes him inhale the whiskey and coke he has been idly sipping on. 

There is Harry. Starbucks, headscarf wearing Harry, who makes bad food and drink related puns while shaking his little bum around the kitchen to whatever song that was playing that Louis never recognised. This Harry isn’t wearing his signature apron and pushed back hair though, oh no he was dressed up in a simple white tee and dark wash jeans in a rich shade of blue that clung to his thighs as if they had been painted on.

Images of having his mouth on those thighs, licking and sucking marks into the pale skin there, while making Harry whine from the rasp of his stubble on sensitive skin suddenly come to mind. He hasn’t been laid in a while so it’s hardly his fault. 

Louis sees his chance a few minutes later, after he silently observes Harry, chatting with a taller man he has shown up with and another girl with lilac coloured hair, when he walks up to the bar alone and seems to be thinking over what he should order. 

Louis tosses back the rest of his own drink and sets the small tumbler down on a nearby empty space of bar top, licking his lips before he pushes off the bar and makes his way over to where Harry is standing, hip cocked to the side as he pulls and stretches on his plump bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger. All it does is make him look even more kissable and Louis curses to himself before gathering up some courage.

“I’m afraid they don’t have anything pumpkin spice here, love.” He announces over the pulse of the music and puts on his most charming grin. His gaze unabashedly sweeps up and down Harry’s form as he turns to face Louis at the sound of his voice, looking a bit stricken before he’s blushing and leaning in closer to either hear him better or shorten the space between them. Either way Louis appreciates it. 

“Hm, it’s a shame that. I should get on it and make it the next big thing.” Harry responds without missing a beat, flashing his dimples and nudging his elbow against Louis’ side as if they were old friends already. Louis barely manages to hold back his resulting swoon; he was a grown man for fucks sake.

“Fancy seeing you here Mr. Tomlinson, or is it just Louis on the weekends?” Harry carries on to say and there’s that cheeky grin Louis has grown to adore, the one that curls up at the corner of his mouth and deepens the crater like dimple in his left cheek. His eyes spark with mischief and mirth as it became clear to Louis that perhaps this wasn’t the first club Harry has been to that night. The rosy flush to his cheeks and the light sheen of sweat on his temples are a dead giveaway.  
Louis’ brows raise in an amused manner, a smirk playing across his lips. 

The bustling crowd around the bar is constantly in motion and someone abruptly pushes against his back, sending him into Harry’s side and knocking their hips together. If it isn’t for the fact that Harry actually honest to god giggles, he would have spun around and given that person a piece of his mind, yet he was too entranced by the sight in front of him to do much else but smile and laugh it off.

“Oops.” A low voice breathes out in his ear, rumbling out a chuckle that sent shivers tumbling down his spine.

“Hi.” Louis replies, muffled somewhere into Harry’s shoulder as they remain close and pressed together. Both are too out of it and giggly to want to move apart, so he savours it. When he takes in a deep breath of the other boy’s clean scent and feels the soft brush of curls on his cheek, it’s simply heaven. 

“You can call me anything you want, Harry. But Louis will do just fine.” He finally answers after a few moments of comfortable silence between them, simply enjoying the contact and company despite the chaos of the party around them.

“Anything hm? You may come to regret that.” His voice hums again as Harry brushes his lips over Louis’ ear and smiles, the drink he had originally come to get completely forgotten now that he has the man he’d been crushing on for the past few weeks quite literally in his arms. 

Louis only snorts and butts his forehead against the side of Harry’s neck, feeling pleasantly warm and fuzzy on the inside. “I guess we’ll just have to find out now won’t we.” He teases, eyes crinkling up at the corners and a soft smile on his lips as he tips his head back to meet Harry’s gaze.

There is a brief pause where they are just dumbly smiling at each other before Harry breaks the moment completely by smacking his lips together and poking Louis in the ribs, his tone raspy and sweet in his ear when he whispers a simple, “lets dance.” 

Louis is then being whisked out into the throng of bodies the moment he nods his head and is surrounded by sweat, bright lights, and a clingy Harry plastered to his front. Despite how gangly and clumsy the boy seems every day at work, it turns out he becomes a whole other person when he gets a bit of liquor in his system judging by the way he was currently trying to fuck himself back onto Louis’ crotch despite the barriers of clothing. 

It takes him by surprise for only a quick second before he relaxes into the sudden turn of events and gives as good as he gets, moving his hips to the incessant beat and rutting up against Harry in a filthy grind that has both of them panting. His hands find themselves on Harry’s hips next, giving them a tight squeeze over each sharp jut of bone and his mouth attaches itself to the side of the boy’s neck. Kissing and licking at the salty taste of hot skin beneath his lips succeeds in getting him even more worked up if possible, every sound that spills out of Harry goes straight to his cock and he hauls him back tightly to meet each thrust which is edging more towards actual fucking than dancing at this point. 

He has Harry flushed and wiggling his pert little bum back against his dick, it’s a miracle they’re still standing and fully clothed. 

Large, fumbling hands are then settling on the nape of Louis’ neck and his arse, pulling him in tighter and pressing bruises into his skin each time he drags his teeth over Harry’s pulse point or grinds up particularly forceful against him, nearly tipping them both off balance but each time they manage to recover. 

Their moans and whines are conveniently drowned out by the sound of the beat, thank god, but Louis is still able to hear as clear as day when Harry turns in his arms and begs him to take him home. 

He can only nod, too dumbstruck and lost for words as desire pooled hot in his gut, which turns out to be a good thing considering that Harry’s lips are on his before he would have been able to get out a single word anyways.

“No, no baby. I don’t think I can make it. C’mon, loo, now.” Louis pants out in between searing kisses they share together, rushed and sloppy as Harry trips over his own two feet while trying to walk and keep their lips attached at the same time.

He gives Harry a playful swat on the bum as they make the trip to the hopefully empty men’s room, stealing kisses and gropes as they went. Both flushed and sweaty, giddy from the lust and attraction they could feel for each other. 

Louis guides Harry into the loo with a steady hand on his hip, idly mouthing at the firm line of his shoulder blade through the fabric of his shirt and kicks the door closed behind them, manoeuvring them both into a vacant stall with minimal knocks and curses as they struggle to move as one.

He feels like a teen again when he presses Harry up against the wall and watches as his adam’s apple bobs, eyes dark and intense when they meet his. The sight nearly takes his breath away and Louis savours it before he’s spurred into action by the growing ache in his trousers.

“You’re so fucking fit.” He growls against the side of Harry’s throat where he has latched on with his lips and sucked, crowding into his space once again so they are pressed flush from their chests to thighs. “Tell me what you need, baby.” He punctuates his words with a slow roll of his hips and pushes up on Harry’s sides, hitching his shirt up his ribs to bare his torso to him.

Harry’s eyelashes flutter and a sound close to a groan rips out of his throat, his head thudding back against the metal wall supporting him. His lips look downright obscene, red and swollen as they part with each ragged breath he takes. “Wanna suck you off, please. Been thinking about it every time I saw you in those damn suits.” Harry grunts, shamelessly rutting up against Louis’ thigh when he slides it between his legs and provides just enough friction for him to see stars. 

Louis mashes their lips together before he can utter out another single word and licks into his mouth, fucking his tongue in past his teeth messily with quick flicks that has Harry turning to putty in his hands. Whining fruitlessly into his mouth as his hands drift from Louis’ back, shoulders, and finally to his hair. 

“On your knees then, pup.” Is all Louis can say when their lips finally part, slick with saliva and puffed up from use. 

Harry drops to his knees so fast Louis' vision blurs and for a moment he sees double red mouthed boys blinking up at him with flushed cheeks before there are unfamiliar hands fumbling with the zip of his jeans as he sways in spot. His shoulder remains propped up against the siding of the stall, the metal cool and solid where it seeps through the thin fabric of his shirt, chilling his heated skin.

Perhaps it was the few too many drinks and the pounding of the dubstep outside the bathroom walls getting to his head, but Louis could have sworn he blanks out for a solid five seconds merely because Harry’s mouth is /finally/ on him, just as wet and perfect as he had imagined it would be. 

Months of build up and horribly flavoured lattes have been leading to this very moment, this drunken blowie in a seedy club toilet. It is a moment he wouldn’t ever forget even if some of the finer details happen to turn out a bit hazy the upcoming morning. It was so worth it. 

Louis has Harry boxed in now with his body and the walls surrounding them, backed up with no place to go but forward as he takes inch after inch past the seal of his lips and over his tongue without so much as a bat of an eye. If Louis’ mind wasn’t such a jumbled mess of lust and alcohol he would have been impressed, yet all he thinks about is having /more/.

His hands seem to move at their own accord to grip Harry’s hair and cup his jaw, Louis’ gaze firmly fixes on the downright sinful sight before him as cherry red lips wrap tight around the base of his cock. 

Harry’s throat works around the thick length with an audible click as he breathes, even and deep through his nose, the dampness to his eyes the only sign that it wasn’t as easy as he is making it seem, taking Louis’ cock. He works up a decent rhythm after the first initial stretch, sucking and bobbing his head with the occasional slick sound as he pulls back to lave the underside with the flat of his tongue. It only takes a short time for his jaw to get that familiar twinge, his lips stinging and cheeks flushing a muted crimson from his mouth being so suddenly used.

“Fuck, that’s it, look at you take it. God.” Louis grunts, not able to come up with anything more coherent considering what he happens to be dealing with and he tightens his hold on the fistful of silky curls he has bunched between his fingers on instinct, surprisingly pleased to find how Harry’s eyes simply flutter at the touch. 

The low, responding hum hits him a moment later and causes his hips to jerk forward at their own accord, the head of his cock nudging the back of Harry’s throat. He hisses an apology through gritted teeth, though it’s fairly half-hearted considering how damn fucking phenomenal it feels and Harry, bless his little heart, only gags once before leaning back to catch his breath.

“S’okay, I like it. Want you to fuck my mouth,” Harry murmurs in that gravelly, slightly morbid tone of his in between the sloppy kisses he presses along the length of Louis’ cock until he ends up nuzzling into that soft, warm strip of space at the junction of Louis’ hip and thigh. His hand takes the place of his mouth to stroke him warm and sure from base to tip, the wetness from his mouth helping to ease the drag of his palm along Louis’ cock.

He rubs his overheated cheeks against the smooth skin he finds there at the older man’s hip and closes his eyes in contentment, looking all sweet and innocent despite the drool smeared on his chin or how raw his mouth is looking from sucking cock. 

“Please.” He adds on a moment later as if Louis would deny this boy anything and ever say no to him.

Louis sucks in a sharp breath and manages a weak nod even if he is positive Harry isn’t even looking at him anyway, too caught up in nosing his way across the little space of tummy he manages to bare to himself after pushing Louis’ shirt a bit more up his middle. 

“Yeah… Yeah. I-I can do that.” Louis manages to slur out around the numb weight of his tongue before he’s moving a hand to cup the back of Harry’s head, threading his fingers through the fine strands and effectively holding him in place despite the fact that such a cramped space doesn’t really allow Harry the chance to move away even if he wants to. 

It’s that thought of how utterly in control he is with Harry trusting him not to hurt him and to use his mouth in the way he likes that has Louis burning up to a near molten level inside.

Then Harry has to go and clasp his hands behind his back, tipping his face up with green eyes wide open along with his mouth and his tongue out presented like something straight from a wet dream. The smaller loose curls framing his face are damp with sweat and clinging to his skin, the headscarf previously covering them pushed away to hang uselessly around his neck at some point during Louis’ struggle to have something to cling onto earlier when Harry’s mouth first closed around him. 

Louis has lived nearly a quarter of his life already for fucks sake and here he is getting weak at the knees due to some boy who serves coffees for a living. A boy with exceptional oral skills who sold coffees, but still. It isn’t quite in his MO to fall this hard and fast with pretty boys who work behind a Starbucks counter. 

He uses his free hand to guide his cock back past Harry’s lips and instantly lets out a sigh when he is met with the velvety heat he’d grown to miss even in that short moment Harry had pulled away to talk. 

If Louis had been holding himself back before, well he certainly wasn’t now that he’s been given the go ahead and he starts moving his hips in tiny increments simply to test the water first. He is in awe at the way Harry keeps up and hollows his cheeks when he starts to move more forcefully, edging towards frantic even as heat coils in his gut and tingles across his skin.

They are both sweating out of their shirts, the fabric obviously damp around the collars and underarms, with beads of it collecting at their temples and trailing down their necks as the life of the club continues to move around them while they remain holed up in this dimly lit corner, sharing a moment and a memory that could end up meaning everything or nothing at all. People did fuck in these kinds of places all the time. Would they be any different when the night is over?

Harry is slightly startled when a rather loud bang rattles his ears and throws him out of the rhythm he has worked up to, /inhale, suck, tongue, exhale, swallow, and repeat/. His eyes quickly open with a confused crease between his eyebrows before he catches sight of what created the noise in the first place and immediately settles more square on his knees, glancing from where Louis’ fist is white knuckled against the wall and the predatory look he is fixing him with. It makes Harry ache to shove a hand down his pants to relieve some of the need he has building up in his system and he doesn’t doubt that he could get himself off just like that alone, with Louis’ eyes on him looking like he would devour him in a second given the chance. He is half tempted to do just that in his tipsy state but he has other tasks at hand that need to be settled before he would even think about allowing himself the pleasure.

“Do you have any idea how good you fucking look? Mouth full of my cock and those lips, Christ. Doing so good for me baby.” Louis pants, switching his grip to the back of Harry’s neck to hold tight and firm, chasing that blissful high as he starts to pump his hips more thoroughly, the head of his cock bumping the soft flesh of Harry’s throat with each pass and his balls hitting lightly against his spit slick chin.

That is one thing Louis could certainly appreciate about the other lad, how unabashed and messy Harry is about the whole thing, it turns him on more than he ever thought it could with saliva slicking his cock and small tears spilling out of the corners of Harry’s eyes. It is a sight Louis never wants to forget, would like to have it engraved on the backs of his eyelids so whenever he closes his eyes he would see Harry’s face again, ruddy and glistening with his cheeks stretched taut. So completely full of him and yet euphoric about it. 

Louis has never met someone so into sucking cock and he is quite the fan of it himself so that’s saying a lot, the way Harry takes everything he is given with a slack jaw and an eager glint in his eye is something he would be more envious about had he not been preoccupied with reaping the benefits of discovering such a perfect boy. 

“Getting close, gonna make me come, pup. You’ve been so good.. Bet you can handle it huh? I know you can.” The words roll easily off Louis’ tongue as praising Harry while fucking his throat seems to come as natural to him as anything else and it’s a well known fact he’s a loud person, inside the bedroom and out so his mouth is constantly off filter, rattling his thoughts off a mile a minute. 

Harry seems to double his efforts from then on, obviously determined to make Louis reach his peak and get a tasty reward in the end. His hands move from their original spot, clasped behind his back to fit themselves to Louis’ hips and encouraging him to move faster, be rougher, as the burst of precome on his tongue is nothing short of addicting. He can’t get enough of it and makes sure to show Louis that by dragging off every now and again to mouth at the head, catching his lips around the ridge with a tight suction and flick of his tongue against the slit before swallowing him back down again. 

The length of Louis is like a brand in Harry’s throat, hot and pulsing the further along he gets, flooding his senses and consuming his mind to the point of not noticing when he has to shuffle forward enough to rut absently against Louis’ shin as if he were some kind of deranged animal. The rough drag of the zipper pressing into the bulge of his cock is a magical form of torture and relief all in one, the friction it causes on the border of painful and fucking fantastic.

Which in turn only makes it hotter for the both of them.

Louis is in continual disbelief that Harry gets so worked up over sucking him off, even more so when he starts humping his leg like an unfixed dog and it only takes a muffled whimper from the boy to eventually send him right over the edge. He spills down Harry’s throat with a deep groan as his hips stutter before pressing in deep and holding there while he rides out his orgasm. 

“Fuck, fuck.” He mutters as eloquent as ever after easily having one of the best orgasms of his entire existence, still reeling through the aftershocks with his hands clinging to the nape of Harry’s neck who is sputtering and swallowing with these pleased little noises that has Louis’ dick twitch with attempted interest.

Harry breathes hard for a moment and is quite possibly on another planet considering the out of body experience he’s having, moving on autopilot with the heady taste of Louis coating his tongue and sliding down his throat he grips at the back of the older man’s calf to pull himself flush with his leg. The need to get off is now front and center considering he just got what he wanted which happens to be Louis’ come and the phantom ache of him fucking his mouth raw. He swivels his hips and grinds them hard against Louis, his chest heaving with every breath as his heart pounds in his ears and he listens to the praise being uttered to him from above as gentle hands brush through his hair, rubbing at his scalp, and that was it. 

“That’s my good boy. Get yourself off just like this. I wanna see you come for me, baby.”

Harry sees white and lets out a choked cry of Louis’ name when he finally comes, his lanky frame moulds itself to Louis’ entire leg and he presses his cheek to the top of his thigh, his back hunching over, as he works himself through it while he tries to take precious air into his lungs. His eyelashes are clumped together from tears and his nose slightly runny when he eventually comes back to himself a few moments later, sniffling from the intensity of it all as he wraps his arms around Louis’ knees and breathes out humid puffs of air against his stomach. 

“You back with me, darling?” Louis asks in a soft tone, hints of fondness shining through along with a small smile while he pats through Harry’s curls and rubs at his neck to help bring him down. Even if he’s a bit more sober than he’d been pre-orgasm, Louis’ is still a little fuzzy around the edges and petting Harry seems like the right thing to do for him at this particular time. 

“M’sticky.” Harry offers weakly, tilting his head up and pouting for effect as it was true, his decision to go commando tonight was perhaps not his greatest and he is facing the consequences now with damp jeans, his own come drying to his skin. 

Louis can’t help it; he tips his head back and laughs, clutching weakly at Harry’s shoulder for support, as it seems to wrack through his whole body. 

“Oh love, c’mere. Let’s give you a quick wipe down and we’ll get out of this place yeah?” He asks with only a beat of hesitation, unsure of how Harry plans the rest of the night going considering they got the lust and need to get off out of their systems, the last thing he wants is it to be awkward between them. 

Harry grumbles with a prolonged sigh, though the dimple in his cheek gives away any annoyance he is trying to portray at having made a mess of himself and instead stands back up on wobbly feet, his knees creaking a little after being on the cold, hard floor for so long, but it’s nothing a nice long rest won’t fix. 

Maybe a massage too, if he plays his cards right with Louis. He looks like the type of man to be very good with his hands, in more ways than one, and Harry says as much with a slow curl to his lips and waggle of his eyebrows to get his point across.

Louis merely snorts. “I’ll take that as a yes, you minx.”

Harry keeps silent during the cleaning process as he allows himself to be propped up against the wall while Louis tucks himself back into his pants and fixes his clothes before attending to Harry. He is feeling far too fucked out and loose limbed to be trusted with standing on his own without falling over only to brain himself on the toilet, something that Louis seems to understand right away without having been told and for that Harry is secretly grateful.

While Louis carefully wipes his softening prick with a wad of toilet paper and flushes the remains, Harry allows himself to enjoy the silence and the throb in his lips, constantly licking over them and scraping with his teeth to remind him of how it felt to have Louis pushing between them. 

Louis clears his throat and hooks an arm around Harry’s waist, pulling him in close and accepting any of the weight the other boy wants to put on him as long as he remains somewhat vertical. 

The drunk leading the drunk is never a good thing, everybody knows that and yet there they were, a sex rumpled boy and man stumbling out of the men’s room with wild hair and wrecked clothes. Anyone and everyone knows just what they have been up to, it was clear on their faces and Harry’s in particular considering how swollen his lips are, the redness of them stands out in stark contrast to the paleness of his skin even with the glowing flush that seems to have spread through him since their not so subtle exit. 

All Louis can think about is that if Harry looks like this after a blowjob and some grinding, imagine him after being well and thoroughly fucked in an actual bed. He could have gotten hard again just thinking about it as they make their way to the front entrance after Louis spots Zayn and Niall making out in a corner booth. They’ll be fine on their own he was sure, Zayn would take care of them and both can hold their liquor. Hopefully.

“My place or yours?” Harry pipes up from his side, eyelids heavy and a wide smile on his lips as he bumps their hips together and giggles as they walk. His eyes squint and lips purse as soon as they step out into the chill autumn air, the expression far more adorable than it has any right to be to Louis who is so helplessly caught up in him he didn’t even realise he’s been spoken to in the first place. Oops.

Louis takes a moment to think it over and rubs his fingers over the dip in Harry’s waist idly as he does so, feeling the warmth emanating from under the thin material that is still slightly damp to the touch and he can’t wait to be skin on skin to soak in all that body heat for himself. 

“Yours. Definitely yours.” He blurts out after thinking back to the mounds of papers and dirty dishes he has strewn about his flat, too lazy and busy with work to give it a proper clean like he’d been meaning to for a while. It isn’t in any state to bring a boy home to that was for sure.

“Mine it is.” Harry replies with a dopey grin and a bat of his eyelashes, worming his hand into Louis’ back pocket and giving an affectionate squeeze that has the older man smirking before returning the gesture.

“S’only a short walk. Thiiiis way.” 

And then they were off, stumbling down the sidewalk and into the night, sharing kisses and giggles whenever a lamppost or mailbox halts their progress. Their hands remain in each other’s back pockets as they lean into one another and Louis tries to make sense of Harry’s rambling directions. “Take a left at that market, a guy named Greg sold me a banana there once... It was nice, good flavour and healthy peel y’know? Not too spotty.” “No Harry I really don’t, but you’re cute so I believe you.” “Hey, thaaanks.”

It’s when they reach outside a flat door labelled 3B in gold lettering when Harry suddenly springs from Louis’ side and spins in front of him with far more grace than either of them had been expecting considering the state they were in. “Prepare yourself for the grand, uh, reveal!”

Louis blinks owlishly from where he has been quietly observing how the toes of Harry’s boots point inwards towards themselves for the past few minutes it took the younger boy to wrangle his keys out of his front pocket. 

There was a lot of bum wriggling and grunting involved, Louis was just trying to keep a steady mind when faced with such an endearingly adorable temptation. 

“The grand-what?” He makes to ask after Harry’s words sink in and the infectious smile being beamed at him puts him slightly on edge, the manic look in pale green eyes giving away that this boy was obviously up to mischief. “Oh my god.” 

The door swings open and Louis’ eyes nearly bulge right out of their sockets when he is greeted, no, pummelled, with all things cheery and bright. It was a lot to take in with the strings of fairy lights twinkling through the cramped entranceway and tinsel adorned the walls, it was like something straight out of a film.

Harry chews on his bottom lip from where he stands off to the side, thoughtful and studying Louis’ reaction to his flat. He had spent a good few days setting it all up and no one was as more prepared for the holiday season than he was.

“Do you like it?” Harry asks after a careful moment of silence, herding Louis in past the door with a hand on his hip and the heels of his boots dragging on the floor, knocking into each other as their two off balanced bodies struggled to move together. 

How could Louis say anything but yes? This boy is all innocence and charm wrapped up in expensive head scarves, cheeks dimpling when he smiled, which was a lot. 

Frankly, Louis is screwed. His repulsion and irritable nature towards all things Christmas be damned.

See, the thing about Louis that not many people know is that the reason for his whole grouch attitude towards the holidays hasn’t always been present. It was more like a gradual thing considering his birthday happens to fall on the very same day jolly old saint nick or whatever, decides to take a visit. 

Either he got loads of presents or barely any at all so as a child it grew annoying, having to share it and having his own day overshadowed by something else.

It was immature and stupid, but Louis stuck to his mindless grudge with determination.

Though now he was starting to picture warm nights by the fire with Harry, drinking hot cocoa spiked with rum and wearing matching sweaters. It suddenly doesn’t seem so bad and a part of him, albeit a sheltered part, is beginning to think that maybe putting his pride aside might work for the better.

Perhaps that was all the whiskey and a spectacular blowjob messing with his head.

“S’lovely. Suits you.” Louis grits out as he bends down and takes his time unlacing his shoes with care, neatly setting them off to the side so they wouldn’t be trampled by a fumbling Harry who is kicking off his boots with no caution to where they land.

Harry’s face positively lights up when he hears it, eyes damn near glittering from all the lights and looking very much angelic with flushed cheeks, curls wild around his head like some sort of springy halo.

Louis is enamoured and it’s getting harder to resist the pull that is this boy.

But then he pauses, thinks for a moment and shrugs. He’s drunk so fuck it. He takes two quick strides and pulls Harry into a kiss, this one unrushed and heated, curling his fingertips along the line of Harry’s jaw as he leans up on his toes to get a better angle. 

Damn the not-so-subtle height difference.

Their mouths move seamlessly together, Harry’s mouth soft and pliant beneath his own as Louis slowly backs them up against the hallway wall, accidentally knocking Harry against the small table littered with various family photos but they manage to stay upright. 

The pictures do as well.

“Fuck.” Louis groans when he finally pulls away from the addicting warmth of Harry’s lips, all plump and full from earlier still when they had been stretched around his cock. It could have been his imagination, but Louis likes to believe that he can still taste the sharp tang of himself lingering in Harry’s mouth.

With one look at Harry after blinking his eyes open it’s quite clear that he’s been affected the same way. His cheeks have gotten even more rouge if possible, jaw slack and eyes soft despite how dilated his pupils are, his hands linked casually around Louis’ lower back in a way to hold him in close. 

Louis didn’t even notice it, too preoccupied in kissing Harry and now he realises just the position they are in. 

They are both in their socks and sweaty club clothes, pressed up against each other barely a foot away from the front door and Louis idly wonders when his self-control became such shit. 

Probably was the moment he agreed to buy that coffee from Harry all those days ago.

“That was nice, but I’m trying to give you a tour here.” Harry whines with a dimpled grin, his stare teasing as he leans in to peck Louis’ lips, once, twice, and with a quick slip of the tongue they start snogging again.

Louis isn’t sure what eventually makes them split apart, lips tingling and trousers a bit more tight than they had been before, but he willingly follows where Harry wobbles down the hall without protest.

“This is the living room… I watch telly and listen to records here. I have quite the collection if I do say so m’self.” Harry states as they enter the room, cramped with furniture from bookshelves, to a sofa, an old record player, and various questionable art pieces. 

The whole place screams Harry and Louis has to admit it has a certain appeal to it, even the continuation of holiday themes don’t make him cringe in horror like they very well should have.

“It’s cute, Curly. Not as uh, spacious, as I’m used to but it’s cozy.” Louis admits with an honest nod of his head, approving, and Harry’s answering smile is worth all the gold in the world.

Harry takes Louis’ hand then for the rest of the ‘tour’, which is consisted mostly of half finished stories and pausing under the random sprigs of mistletoe Harry has taped to the ceiling or over doorways. 

Louis balks at first, but soon finds out that Harry becomes quite insatiable when he doesn’t get his way and he’s too cute when pouty to resist.

Harry pauses in front of the last door left they hadn’t yet entered. The twisted wreath of evergreen that hangs on a crooked nail dead centre is a suspiciously festive sign of just who might inhabit said room. “And finally, the bedroom. It is getting rather late y’know. I think it’s rather appropriate it’s our last stop.” He hints with a wiggle of his eyebrows that has Louis muffling his laughter into one hand and pinching Harry’s cheek fondly with the other, letting the pad of his thumb catch in the crater of his dimple as he reluctantly pulls away.

“Lead the way, babe.” Louis smirks and gives Harry a playful love tap on the curve of his bum, watching with a warm gaze as the other boy titters and blushes before finally shouldering the door open. 

Harry stands off to the side with his hands folded behind his back, socked feet toed inwards and scrunching against the carpet beneath them as he allows Louis his first look at the privacy of his bedroom. Even in his inebriated and post-orgasmic state, Harry still can’t help but feel a bit inadequate compared to the lavish air of the man standing beside him in a high end suit and a watch worth more than his whole flat on his wrist. 

Louis keeps a steady hand on the small of Harry’s back, trying to be warm and reassuring while the younger boy sways with that same doe eyed expression that had taken his breath away that first morning in Starbucks.

He makes an approving hum under his breath. “It’s lovely, really, there’s no need to be nervous, babe. I’m not here to judge.” Louis murmurs comfortingly as he takes in a broad sweep of the room before settling his stare on Harry, inching his fingers up under the hem of his shirt to get skin on skin contact. 

The simple touch sends tingles up through his wrist and arm, prickling across his skin and settling as sparks in his chest. Igniting the more he got to know this boy and every moment they spent with each other. 

So, Louis tends to get a little poetic and hopelessly romantic when drunk. Good thing he doesn’t have the shame to care about it until morning when it will inevitably crash back into him in the form of burning embarrassment and a blow to his ego.

“It’s not much but it’s home, yeah? I mean it’s my own first place since I moved out. M’proud of it.” Harry beams with a crooked smile, leaning in far too much into Louis’ personal space for it to be even remotely considered friendly and not something more. 

The short time they have spent in his flat has been very informative to Louis, but what stands out to him is that under the charming boy exterior of dimples and curls, Harry is in fact an oversized koala bear at best and he couldn’t lie. He loved it.

Louis chuckles and slides a hand up to Harry’s shoulder to help balance him, guiding him along just like that until he was close enough to the queen sized bed to safely collapse atop the sheets without risk of bodily harm to either of them.

Harry grunts after the abrupt fall, but otherwise remains quiet and blinks up at Louis with his lower lip trapped between his teeth. His hair is fanned out against the off white cream of the pillow case he is mostly propped up on and his limbs are in a much similar state, sprawled out every which way without a care in the world.

The sight catches him off guard, with the low glow of the fairy lights twinkling from the ceiling and the hint of cinnamon in the air from the scented candles sitting unlit on the bedside tables, Harry looks and feels like every bit of a day dream. Louis can’t resist.

“Didn’t leave much room for me did ya, Curly?” He tuts in faux disapproval while kneeling up on the mattress, wrinkling his nose in a way to only make Harry laugh and he smiles wide when he succeeds in doing so, the boy beneath him quivering from the force of the giggles spilling out of him.

Louis crawls up until his knees straddle Harry’s hips and he pauses, eases back on his haunches with a calculated look as he idly places his hands over the boy’s softly rising and falling stomach. 

The air in the room gets surprisingly serious as Harry’s breath catches in his throat, his eyes never once straying from where they are fixed on Louis hovering over him in his clean pressed trousers and button down, still looking every bit as put together as he did before. 

“You comfy there? Taking up all the room like that… How naughty. I suppose I’ll just pass out here then.” Louis sighs as if it was the worst thing in the world to be subjected to having to pillow his head on Harry’s chest and burrow himself in his overabundance of body heat. Such a hard knock life he has.

“You’re ridiculous, there is plenty of room. I’m pretty flexible you’ll find out.” Harry the little shit smirks, raises his eyebrows and laughs at how Louis’ eyes definitely do not bug out of his head.

Louis huffs with a roll of his eyes and ignores the way heat rises to the apple of his cheeks, instead narrowing his focus in on the small strip of skin bared to him between the hem of Harry’s shirt and the waistband of his jeans. It’s milky soft beneath his fingertips, begging to be marked up by a mouth and teeth.

“Oh I don’t doubt that for a minute, love.” He croons. “But just so we’re clear, that was an invitation to stay the night correct?” Louis asks with hesitation creeping in on the tone of his voice and momentarily pauses to catch Harry’s eye, not wanting to overstep his bounds of being a possible one-night stand for this boy.

Harry thankfully snorts in response and grins in that way that crinkles around his eyes that Louis is already rather smitten with. “Of course you dope. I thought I made that clear.” 

And he sounds so soft and fond that Louis swallows his indignant retort and simply nods instead, so uncharacteristic of himself he’s taken aback for a moment, but if the way Harry reaches up to place on his hip is any reaction to go by he figures he’s doing pretty well.

“Alright, but I have to warn you that I’m very strictly the big spoon and I won’t have anything less than that. Also I hog the sheets. Minor details though…” Louis brushes it off with a wave of his hand. 

He moves to get off the bed and remove his clothes pretty quickly after that, the rush of an orgasm and the drinks he consumed were wearing off at a rapid pace. Weariness was tugging behind his eyes and he was all but ready to pass out on whatever comfortable surface within falling distance.

Harry seems to be in the same state with how his eyelids droop more and more with every blink he takes, face open and innocent as he tries to remain coherent enough to watch Louis undress. Bless his heart.

Louis wrangles out of his trousers and socks without much incident thank god, his shirt though proves to be a bit of a challenge with buttons and all. He curses and fumbles with nearly every single one before he manages to get it open, having seriously contemplated hulking the damn thing off at the expense of the expensive fabric.

Zayn would have probably beheaded him.

That leaves him standing at the foot of a strange, albeit cosy, queen-sized bed in nothing but his pants. Form fitting black briefs that accentuated a lot of his assets if he did think so himself. 

He looks towards Harry and promptly squares his hands on his hips, adopting the best stern motherly face he can manage without breaking a smile when he sees how the boy is still sprawled out.

“Gonna leave me with all the work to do are you? Bloody useless you are, Curly.” Louis tuts with a cluck of his tongue, though it’s more amused than anything at seeing a dopey Harry peering up at him from under his lashes, lips puffy and mouth slack as his breathing labours.

All Harry does in his defence is shrug his shoulder, shake his head and press his lips together with a childish hum of ‘nuh-uh’ when Louis motions to his still fully clothed state.

“Unbelievable.” He sighs and steps over to begin undressing him, starting with the headscarf now half-hazardly draped around his neck instead of in his hair like it had originally been pre-club bathroom blowjob.

Louis takes care to hang it up on the dresser nearby, idly rubbing over the smooth fabric sliding between his fingers before he returns to try to wrestle this nearly six foot mass of limbs and curls out of his current attire. While he sleeps as it appears.

“Oh come on give me something here…” He sighs under his breath when Harry starts to giggle and squirm away from his hands going for the button of his jeans, managing to unzip his fly and get them about halfway down his legs before it starts getting difficult.

The skinnies take a bit of shimmying and patience which Louis doesn’t have much of on the best of days, but oddly enough it’s the memory of having once done the same with his younger sisters that keep him calm. 

In the end all that’s left is the t shirt and Louis manages to get that off as well, one arm at a time and when it’s all said and done he feels about ready to sleep standing. 

What keeps him awake is the deep rumbling laugh that emits from Harry, still sprawled and decidedly more awake than he had been while he was trying to get his kit off the bastard.

“You!” Louis points an accusing finger at him and gasps, “You were faking it! How very dare you.” He very nearly shouts, waving the white shirt still in his hand like a madman.

“M’sorry, but it was cute and I couldn’t help it. I like being taken care of.” Harry explains with this impish little smile that was Louis deflating, wilting into acceptance that he had been duped. 

Not very many people could say that they had pulled one over on Louis Tomlinson and he wasn’t sure if he should be more proud, or annoyed.

“Yeah, yeah, now budge up. I’m proper knackered now, thanks to you.” He huffs and makes to get in the bed when suddenly there is a hand around his wrist, yanking and pulling until he topples forward with an outraged squawk into a very firm and warm chest. Which, wasn’t the worst thing in the world to fall face first into he has to admit.

Harry snuffles a bit and manoeuvres them both under the blankets, blushing a bit at Louis’ snort at the Christmas themed fleece under the comforter. It’s an awful shade of green, covered with ornamented Christmas trees and a cheesy ‘happy holidays’ written in bright red cursive. 

“S’from my mum, I swear.” Louis huffs disbelievingly, but doesn’t try to question it, just says a simple, “That’s nice, Haz.”

Harry worries his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment, both of them curled up towards each other in their cocoon of blankets, sharing space and breath. 

“Will you be here in the morning, Lou? I make a killer breakfast and I uh, wanna talk to you more when we’re not drunk.” He pauses, clearly hesitating over his next thought before he continues.

“Wanna learn about your job and family, how you take your tea in the morning and everything ‘cause I know you don’t drink the stuff I’ve given you. I have so many things to tell you. Bakery… Sister…” Harry rambles on, his words slurring together cutely until Louis cuts him off with a kiss, quick and closed mouth to reassure any doubts the boy may have.

“That sounds just lovely, I promise I’ll be here listening to every bit of it but sleep now. We can talk in the morning, darling.” Louis soothes with a comforting stroke to Harry’s hair and scratches at his scalp lightly before letting his hand fall away.

Harry beams in reply, eyes lighting up despite the fatigue creasing his features and that seems to appease him since he nods once. “Good. Night then.” 

Louis grins as Harry turns over facing away from him, dragging his arm over his waist as he moves. “Night.” He hums against Harry’s shoulder, lips moving against the softness of his skin and he pecks him there before settling in steadfast behind him. Anchoring him to his hold and not planning on letting him go anytime soon, even in his subconscious when he descends into slumber he’ll still be gripping strong and sure.

The fairy lights are still twinkling away above them, casting such a warm haze that Louis can’t help but slip under with his body moulded to Harry’s back and his nose tucked up behind his ear, the very scent of him lulling him into a deeper sleep.

They remain like that in the early hours of the morning, Harry’s hand laced with his and cradling it close to his chest, Louis draped over his back without an inch of space between them, bare skin on bare skin.

If the not-so-awkward date they share when they wake up in the evening of that very same day leads to another. And another.

And many more after that, maybe a wedding a few years down the line after moving in with each other and exchanging much more than some quickie blowjob in a club. 

Well, maybe it was fated from the beginning, when Harry first saw that job offer in the paper and Louis that familiar green logo.

After all, that would make quite the story to tell the grandkids. Minus the raunchy bits of course, that would have to wait until they’re old enough to be considered senile and he could blame it on that for traumatising his relatives. Harry would probably find it funny anyways.

Louis still won’t ever dare let his lips touch another pumpkin spice anything, regardless of it bringing him to the love of his life. 

Though he does happen to smile a little (or a lot) at the memory of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Find me on tumblr at pikachulourry if you want :)


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